Saturday, September 14, 2013

Chapt. 39 (1st draft) - The WACKO Song

Gladys Alabi and
Anthony Cromwell stared aghast at the flat-screen TV on the wall in
the conference room. They were watching President Morowitz come
unglued, ranting about how WACKO was “the real government, the
shadow government”, and that he, Morowitz, was a figurehead, a
joke.

“How long you
suppose before WACKO shuts them down?”

“They can't crash
the bunker, Gladys. That would be too obvious.”

“Do they even know
which bunker?”

“Shouldn't take
them long to figure it out, but they'll wait at least until he's done
speaking.”

“What about the
signal?”

“You mean cut it
off?”

“Yeah, wouldn't
that be the best way? Blame it on the weather, terrorists?

“Oh, I'm sure
they're trying.”

“I wish Randy was
here with us.”

“You know...”

“Yeah, I know. He
likes to work alone. I still wish he was here.”

Just then, Randy
Newgate appeared in the conference room with his laptop.

“They're not doing
anything. Didn't even try to keep us from co-opting the satellite
feeds. Makes sense. The more that asshole rants the less his
credibility, what's left of it anyway.”

“He looks pretty
good up there, actually,” said Cromwell.

“That's true, but
a president's not supposed to talk like that. Most people are
convinced he's gone over the edge.”

Hearing Cromwell use
profanity quieted the other two. They turned their attention back to
the screen in time to watch Morowitz break into song.

“These assholes
are gonna wanna kill me now, you know. Ohhhhh, they're angry.
Ooooweeee, as my roommate Cedric at Harvard would say. Ooooweeee,
WACKO is pissed. Well, lemme tell ya, I mighta been afraid of the
bastards before...mighta been? That's a chickenshit thing to say,
isn't it. I was afraid of the WACKO bastards. They're evil,
scary bastards. Kill anybody who gets in their way. Anybody!!
But I'm not scared now, ya know? No longer scared. I even wrote a
song to show you and those bastards that I'm not scared of them
anymore. Wanna hear it? Well, you're gonna hear it. Here I go.”

He pulled a scrap of
paper from his jacket, cleared his throat and roared at the camera in
his deep Nixon baritone:

“It's called
Ja-Da. An old jazz tune,” Newgate said. “Silly thing. My
folks used to sing it around the house when they'd had a few. Ja-da
ja-da zing zing zing. Something like that.”

“Jeezuz.”
Cromwell's voice was subdued. He stared at the screen as if watching
news coverage of the zombie apocalypse.

“Kinda catchy.”

“It is that,
Gladys. I feel like singing along with the president – almost.”

“Oh, c'mon, Randy.
He's gonna keep singing it until he has a heart attack or a stroke.”

And Morowitz did
sing his little ditty again, this time stepping from behind the
lectern, flapping his elbows like uncoordinated wings and shuffling
into a sort of hybrid mix of soft-shoe and strut, almost falling from
the dais in doing so.

“You know, I'm
starting to get really worried, for Ruth and Joan and Liz and Al,”
said Cromwell. “I kinda wish this would end.”

“I'm surprised
they haven't tried to get him down from there.”

“Maybe they're not
even in the room anymore, Randy. Maybe he's locked them out.”

“That's possible,
Gladys, but I don't think so. He keeps looking at someone, when he's
not looking straight into the camera. I think everybody's in there
with him. He's not really acting nuts, either. I mean, yeah, he's
acting nuts for a president, but he looks pretty comfortable up
there, like he's having the time of his life.”

“Time of the end
of his life. This isn't going to end well, guys.”

“This could be the
best thing ever happened. No matter how it ends. He's calling WACKO
out. We can never go back from this.”

Newgate's voice
trailed off as Morowitz switched gears, walking up to the camera so
his face filled the screen. His face had gone serious from the snarky
grin it wore during the singing performance. He spoke calmly.

“My fellow
Americans. I know most of you must be thinking, this guy has lost his
marbles. And you know something, maybe I have. But, then, all the
polls have been telling us you don't really care one way or the
other, whether I'm nuts or not or wise or stupid or mediocre or alive
or dead. You just don't care anymore.

“You've come to
disregard not only me but the office of the presidency. Ordinarily
that would be a tragedy for this country. But you know something?
You, the people, have caught on to the problem I've been talking
about tonight. The presidency, not just this president but the office
itself has lost your respect and that's because deep down you've come
to see it for the sham that it's become. You haven't known about
WACKO, but you have come to see, to understand in your hearts, that
somebody else, not me or any of the people you've elected to
represent you in this government, but somebody hiding from view,
somebody no one has elected to anything, is really running the show.

“None of us –
most of us, anyway – has wanted to admit this, even to ourselves.
We've gone along pretending things are the way the Constitution says
they should be. We have our elections. We get all excited about the
debates and the issues and then we vote. Some candidates win and take
their seats in office and we think everything is running along the
way it's supposed to, that our government is still the best form of
government in the world.

“Well, I'm pulling
the mask off that dream tonight, my friends. I'm telling you how
things really work, and it is not the way our Founding Fathers hoped
it would be. It is not the way the document they hammered out
prescribed how things should operate, that you the people shall
govern yourselves through representatives you yourselves elect.

“I've been telling
you tonight, and now I'm going to show you.” He stepped back from
the camera and motioned to someone out of view. “We're going to
play for you a short video that's going to change your view of this
country forever. It's a video that was delivered to me shortly after
I was inaugurated as president. At the time, I was not able to
determine who made this video available to me. I was afraid to tell
anyone about it, much less show it to them. It shocked me to my core,
just as it will shock you to yours. Pay close attention, now. Go
ahead, Bradford. Play the video.”